


[Letter] Dear, Mama

by orphan_account



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22085452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Angel is a very curious person (ahem, demon). Eavesdropping ensues.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Kudos: 63





	[Letter] Dear, Mama

Opening the mini fridge in the lobby, Angel had only two choices: to starve, or eat the melted popsicles from last month. He squinted his eyes, pink irises glowing faintly against the light coming from outside.

Angel 5, rummaging for something edible enough to fill his stomach.

Melted popsicles wouldn't do him any good and give him well-needed nutrition, so... starvation it is for today. _Charlie really need to fill these things with food..._

As gently as possible, he closed the fridge and noticed a stack of letters on top of the sofa he usually drapes himself on. Who would even-?

Husk wouldn't dare leave clutter to anywhere near him, and would go as far as putting a cage to the liquor displayed almost mockingly at the bar, so he's out of the question. Little Niffty is a sweet darling that cleans up after herself, so she's not even on the choices. That would leave Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor.

But Charlie tries very hard to be organized, and Alastor would've snapped anything into the void for him to check later, and-

"Oh. You're here." _Vaggie._

"H~ey, Vaggie, m' favorite sinner in all o' hell! What the fuck are these doin' on m' spot." Angel had said, more of a sentence than a question, gesturing towards the pile with all four arms to exaggerate. Vaggie simply rolled her eyes, and from her position near the bar, Angel Dust could almost feel her irritation swelling. He swallowed down a laugh, and crossed both sets of his arms.

With her ashen skin, Angel would've thought she died just recently, but since they were all in hell... looking like you died yesterday is a common look for all demons and sinners alike. She came to his side in strides that would make a model jealous, and picked a letter to read the return address. Angel hovered near her and read the company name at the top of the paper in big bold letters.

**WICCAN DELIVERY SERVICE**

'We have sent this letter to inform you of the early passing of the owner of Wiccan Delivery Service, and due to his lack of will to provide, his closest affiliations are thus endowed by title of 'SHAREHOLDER' in his company. Please return a reply before the end of the fifth full moon with your signature of agreement and-'

"Ah, nice of you both to read through _my_ letters!"

Both Angel and Vaggie startled and almost ripped the letter they were reading in the process. Angel's eyes were the size of saucers while Vaggie turned and nonchalantly placed it back inside the envelope, separating the stack of letters into two piles in what Angel assumed to be Charlie's and Alastor's.

His mind is in a different dimension, however, after hearing the Radio Demon's lowered voice at 'my'. His thoughts drifted to the events that happened yesterday, when Alastor would address him as 'my dear'. Angel felt heat creeping up his neck, and fished for his hellphone in his pocket to look busy.

He scrolled through Vainsbook, and checked his notifications from Sintagram. He heard Vaggie's footsteps by the way vibration from her heels clicking to the floor would be farther away from Angel as time passes, and he assumed that Alastor left a long time ago. He breathed out a sigh of relief, and sat on the sofa with his face trained on his phone-

Until he felt a cane that withheld his butt from sitting down. The heat that crept up his neck a moment ago was in full force now, making his face and neck a glowing shade of pink. The way the cane was snug against where his ass and thigh would meet made him an aroused and sputtering mess, and he stood up straight as a rod and held his hellphone against his chest.

Alastor let out a laugh. "My dear, sorry to interrupt your..." he glanced at the phone between Angel's fur, "...business, but surely it would be just! Considering that you were about to sit on a hypothetically important letter, my action-" he twirled his cane like a baton. _Why don't you spank me with that, Daddy-_

"-Is justified!" Canned laughter echoed through the hotel lobby, and if Angel wasn't glowing fifty shades of pink on his fur, he would've laughed along. Alastor flexed his fingers, and the letter that was previously on the couch appeared in his hand. "I bid you adieu, my dear."

With that, he bowed and disappeared into the shadows.


End file.
